“Come on, boy,” she soothed as she stepped through the French doors. Her heart lurched when she saw a dark shape reclined in a lawn chair. A curl of smoke wound to the trees, as eerie as a witch’s bent finger.
“Sutton?” a familiar raspy voice said.
Emma blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. “Grandma.” She let go of Drake’s collar and he trotted across the lawn to sniff a cluster of azaleas.
“Who did you think it was? God?” Grandma Mercer waved her cigarette, motioning Emma forward. “Sit down.” Grandma Mercer made room for Emma on the end of her dark green lawn chair.
Emma reluctantly sat. To her surprise, Grandma proffered her pack of Merits. “Want one?”
Emma’s nose wrinkled. She’d always hated the smell of cigarette smoke. But would Sutton have said yes? “Um, I have a sore throat,” she lied. Then she cocked her head. “Why aren’t you with Mom and Dad?”
“They were meeting up with the Finches,” Sutton’s grandmother said, then made a face. “It’s such a chore seeing those people. They’re always trying to set me up with that awful woman’s widowed father. I may be old, but I can find my own dates, thank you very much.”
She pinched her cigarette between wrinkled fingers and leveled a long look at Emma. “Sooo,” she said slowly, stretching the word out. “Are you really not going to say anything about my—what did you call it last time? ‘Filthy little habit that will kill you and age your skin prematurely’?”
Emma laughed out loud. That did sound like something her twin would say—and it was nice to know Sutton wasn’t a smoker either. “Nah. I’ve turned over a new leaf. Live and let live. Or in your case, live until smoking kills you,” she said with a wry smile.
Grandma Mercer tapped the ash in a glass she was using as an ashtray. “Sounds good to me. So, Sutton. How’s the college search going?” She crossed her legs. “Are you even going to college next year?”
“Um,” Emma stalled. Something about the question hit her in the gut and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. She’d never seen anything in Sutton’s belongings having to do with college visits or applications. Sutton had all the opportunities in the world, and yet she wasn’t taking advantage of any of them.
Hey, not all of us were made for college. Maybe I had plans to become a big Hollywood actress.
“I’m just trying to keep my options open,” Emma finally said. “But I’m applying to loads of good schools.”
“Really?” Grandma Mercer asked, cocking a silver eyebrow. “Are you planning to stay in Arizona?”
“The U of A is good,” she said quietly. Ironically, the University of Arizona was one of the colleges she had begun applying to back when she lived in Vegas. They offered a lot of scholarships, and she liked their program in journalism. But the financial aid forms had to be way past due by now. Would she ever get to go back to that old life? Or would she have to apply to schools as Sutton Mercer? Could she do something like that? Living in Sutton’s room and taking her high school classes was one thing. But attending college on the Mercers’ dime, continuing to pretend she was Sutton in the dorms, felt different somehow. And the idea that Sutton’s murder would still be unsolved by then was unfathomable.
Grandma wrinkled her nose. “The U of A has a good sorority life, you mean. Life’s more than partying, you know.”
Emma stared at her sandals. “Trust me. I know.”
Grandma Mercer tapped her cigarette on the lawn chair’s handrail, a pensive look on her lined face. “Your father used to love a good party,” she said, sighing. “He’s a California boy at heart. But he and your mother quieted down quite a bit when they moved to Tucson.” She sniffed. “Of course, his job was worth relocating for.”
“They lived in California before Tucson?” Emma asked, unable to hide her surprise. The Mercers had never said anything either way, but they were so entrenched in the community here she’d just assumed they’d been here forever.
Grandma gave her a crazy look. “Well of course they did. They moved here just after they adopted you.”
“Oh, right. Duh,” Emma said faintly. It was strange to think that they’d once had an entirely different life.
Grandma sighed. “I’ve always missed them being right down the road from me. We used to have so much fun when Sutton was still alive.”
Emma’s heart clenched. Had she heard the old woman right?
I waited with bated breath. Grandma had said Sutton. Me.
“My sister loved babies,” Grandma Mercer went on, her thin lips breaking into a grin. “And she especially loved you. She fawned over you. Called you her little namesake.”
Emma’s eyes flicked back and forth as the words slowly sank in. The Sutton Grandma was talking about wasn’t her twin. Sutton was named after Grandma Mercer’s sister, her great-aunt.
Grandma reached for her martini glass and took a long sip. “If we lived closer, I could’ve kept a better eye on you—and kept you out of trouble. Your parents were always far too lenient. A few more weekends with me would have knocked the sass right out of you.” She glanced at Emma. But after a moment, her eyes softened and she laid her hand over Emma’s. Emma smiled, not expecting this tiny gesture of kindness.
Grandma pursed her lips, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t quite find the words. “Anyway,” she said, her voice stern again as she removed her hand.
“Anyway,” Emma echoed, feeling awkward once more.